The Pricefield Christmas Special
by VanossWriting
Summary: A bit late, but I wanted to do something special for Christmas. Enjoy this Pricefield fluffy story based on the Christmas Truce of 1914! (Second chapter up)
1. Cease Fire

My name is Maxine Caulfield. I was born on September 20, 1895, in Arcadia Bay, Oregon. It was a small town, but I was able to move to Seattle and get a higher education. I studied foreign languages, such as Spanish, French, and German. After high school, I decided to visit England with my friends in 1913. Many Germans lived in England, so I quickly became known as a translator in the German part of London. I guess that meant I wasn't supposed to be surprised when the War started. When the Austrian archduke, Franz Ferdinand, was shot in Sarajevo. When the Austro-Hungarian armies marched into Serbia. When the Germans cut a path through Belgium to invade France.

I was sent to the front lines as a translator. I myself cannot be mad at the British; I was, and still am, fluent in French and German. Although I was an American citizen, I was still sent to the trenches.

The trenches, my God, were unbearable. To this day, I still cannot figure out how or why those soldiers were able to endure the constant shelling and gunfire. God, the Fritz were relentless. I got to the point where the shells fucked up my hearing. Fucked to the point where the exploding shells made a lion's roar sound like a whisper.

But I was highly valuable for the Allied forces. If we intercepted a German message, I would translate. If someone needed to say something to a French soldier in the trench with us, I would translate. To the other soldiers, German words were gibberish. I was invaluable, indispensable. I got myself a high place of respect and trust in those trenches. I still ponder how many men's lives I have saved just by turning English into German.

There was one time, in particular, that I think changed my life forever.

* * *

It's December 24, 1914. Instead of being in a warm apartment on the Thames, I'm shivering in a cold, mucky, hastily-assembled trench. It doesn't help that it's snowing either. A soldier is walking down the trench, handing packages and letters to soldiers. Some got chocolate and cigarettes, others got heart-warming love letters from their girlfriends.

The man handed me a single letter, sent from London. I knew it was a friend, and I smiled when I opened the letter.

 _Dear Max,_

 _If you're reading this, then I hope this is not the last one you will receive. I pray every night that you get to return safely when this dreadful war is over. I'm confident that you and the soldiers around you will kick the Fritz all the way to Berlin! May God be with you. Merry Christmas._

 _Love, Kate_

This may be the first time I have genuinely smiled since I arrived. I noticed something else inside the letter, and I looked inside to see Kate's necklace. I was about to cry, but I didn't. Instead, I casually placed it around my neck and let the cross dangle over my heavy coat.

"Hey, Caulfield." Lieutenant Bishop came to me, and I stood up.

"Yes, sir?"

"Caulfield, you're not a soldier. No need to call me sir. If anything, you're higher ranking than me." I sighed in relief and loosened up a bit.

"I never knew 'translator' was higher than 'lieutenant'."

"In these trenches, it is." Bishop replied, "So, what're your plans should the Fritz storm this trench?" I looked around and saw a lone rifle. I picked it up, or I tried to. I didn't realize how heavy these things were.

"Well, I'm gonna defend myself. It's not murder if the guy you kill is trying to kill you." He patted my shoulder.

"That's the spirit!" He said enthusiastically. Truly, it was a large possibility that they could storm this trench. I always tense up whenever they're not shelling us, "Maxine, is something wrong?" His words snapped me into reality, and I realize what caused my little trance: a faint, deep singing. I get close to the edge of the trench, but I don't peek over. Yet I can clearly hear the Germans singing Christmas carols.

"Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht, Alles ist ruhig, alles ist hell. Runde yon Jungfrau Mutter und Kind. Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar, Schlaf im himmlischen Frieden. Schlaf im himmlischen Frieden." They're singing 'Silent Night', there's no question.

I began to sing along in English, and many in the trench soon followed. This was an extraordinary sight: two armies singing Christmas carols despite trying to kill each other just days earlier.

* * *

Christmas morning, 1914. My back hurts, my feet hurt, my neck hurts. Everything hurts. I'm just thankful I haven't gotten trench foot yet. I opened my eyes to see many soldiers looking over into No Man's Land. I got curious when I realized no one was getting shot by a sniper, so I looked as well. What used to be the gray, crater-filled wasteland is now covered in a blanket of white, soft snow.

"Isn't it amazing, Caulfield?" Bishop asked in awe after peeking over.

"It may be a Christmas miracle." Another soldier stated. I grabbed a pair of binoculars and looked at the German trench. They were doing the same thing as us: lookin into this miracle that makes us forget we were even at war.

I put one foot on the ladder.

"Maxine, what're you doing?"

I got a much better view of the wasteland.

"Hey, Caulfield!"

I put my hands in the air as I felt the snow crunch under my boot. The Germans and the soldiers behind me were all freaking out. I saw multiple Germans raise their rifles. But the loud voice of a woman stopped them.

"Halt! Sie hat keine Waffe! Senken Sie Ihre Waffen!" She sounded to be in a panic. A woman came out of the German trench with her hands up. She has a Red Cross on her shoulder, so I can only assume she is a nurse. Her appearance intrigued me as she has blue highlights. As we got closer to each other, we put our hands down and we heard soldiers coming out of the trenches.

We were two feet away from each other when I broke the silence.

"Hallo, ich heiße Maxine."

"Ich heiße Chloe."

"Schön dich zu treffen, Chloe." We both smiled as I shook her hand. Other soldiers began to greet each other as well. Some traded things like candy for cigarettes. Others shared stories from back home. Occasionally, a British soldier and German soldier would reunite, as many Germans lived in Britain before the war.

I told Chloe about how I was from America and it was my job to translate. She stated how she lost her father as a teenager.

"Es tut mir leid, das zu hören."

"Du musst dich nicht entschuldigen, Maxine."

"Bitte rufen Sie mich an Max." In honesty, I hate being called Maxine. I just put up with Bishop because he's a military official, and he's not used to informality.

"Okay, Max."

"Warten Sie, können Sie Englisch sprechen?"

"Nein, nicht viel."

"Nun, vielleicht kann ich dir beibringen." I wrapped an arm around her and she smiled. We were startled by a whistle. We all turned to Bishop, who dropped something onto the ground. He smiled. It's a football. The men all laughed and began to take their coats off. Chloe and I stepped to the side as the Brits and the Fritz battled in a game of football.

"Nicht nennen sie es 'soccer', wo Sie sind?"

"Ja, so machen wir das in Amerika." We both rounded up some of the nurses and formed a little group. While they mostly talked about the cute soldiers, Chloe and I were focused on the game. Since I was neither British nor German, I didn't really care, but whenever the Germans scored, Chloe lit up like the Fourth of July. Seeing her so happy makes me smile. It helps me realize that despite the fact of our nations being at war, we still think of ourselves as more than soldiers.

Much, much more than just a soldier. We're human beings. And this day, we treat each other not as enemies, but as friends.

* * *

At the end of the day, we began to pack our things and go back to the trenches. We were able to share some of our rations, which can keep our soldiers and theirs going for a while. I walked up to Chloe and tried to be cheerful. It's very hard to be cheerful knowing that the same men who played football hours ago are going to start killing each other tomorrow.

"Chloe, ich möchte dir etwas geben." I quickly ran into the trench in search of my bag. When I found it, I immediately came back out and ran towards her. I opened the bag and pulled out a book. Although I'm fluent in German, there are still some words that are regional, meaning they are only spoken in a specific region in Germany. Just in case, I always have a German-to-English book, along with many others. I took out the German-to-English book, "Nimm das. Wenn Sie Freizeit haben, können Sie dies lesen. Es ist offensichtlich, dass ich nicht in der Lage, Sie Englisch in Person zu lehren, so dass ich dachte, dies wäre genug."

She took the book and I was startled when she almost tackled me. She gave me a big bear-hug, "Vielen Dank, Max."

"Ich meine, es ist Weihnachten. Es ist das Mindeste, was ich tun konnte." I replied. We broke the hug and I saw a tear streaming down her cheek. I wiped it off her face, "Frohe Weihnachten, Chloe."

"Frohe Weihnachten, Max." She replied before we both walked back to our trenches. Before I got in, I looked behind me. All I see is Chloe, looking back at me with her new book in hand. I smiled once again. I've smiled more today than I have in the past two months!

I hopped into the trench, wondering if I shall ever see Chloe alive again.

* * *

 **I know it's a bit late, but I wanted to do something special for Christmas. I apologize if the German translation is a bit inaccurate, since I used Google Translate. I am working on the next chapter of Life Until Dawn and I hope to get it out before the end of January. I know I left it at sort of a cliffhanger, so if y'all want me to continue the story, let me know! I hope you all have had a wonderful Christmas and have a happy New Year! - VW**


	2. Reunion

**1918**

Stress. It overwhelmed me as I gazed upon the map. The Americans are coming in the masses. We must do something. Therefore, we have begun our little "Plan B": _Kaiserschlacht._ We will advance as far as possible before the Americans arrive. But it's heavily flawed. I looked upon this map of the front line. We're getting closer and closer to Amiens, which holds a railway hub that supplies the entire Entente's front line. If they can take it, the Entente would be broken. Maybe then will we advance on Paris.

If we fail to take it, our supply lines in that area would be cut. The Doughboys will have no trouble steamrolling us. I ran my hand across my face, massaging the bags under my eyes. I just needed to find a weak point; a hole in the line that they can sneak through. Then, we can take Amiens and have the line surrounded. With their supply lines cut, it may as well be game over. Well, for the Western Front that is.

I now know why most high ranking military officials look older than they are. The stress is killing me. I couldn't focus with the artillery constantly going at it. _"They say people in London could hear our cannons. I'd say that's a good thing, because it gives them a preview of what'll happen when we reach Paris."_ I grinned at this thought. _"I've always wanted to climb the Eiffel Tower..."_

 _"Arzt! Wir brauchen dich in den Gräben! Jetzt!"_ I looked up at a lieutenant. I nodded and reached for a nearby rifle, but the lieutenant grabbed my hand. " _Fräulein, du brauchst keine Waffe. Wir brauchen nicht, dass du dein Leben jetzt riskierst."_

 _"Wenn ich da draußen gehe, muss ich mich zu schützen. Ich dachte, Sie würden wissen, dass, Leutnant."_ I shot a sarcastic look at the man before he loosened his grip. I picked up the rifle and left the tent only to be met by rain and gunfire. I looked into the trenches and saw many men; some dead, some near-death. Then it hit me. An image flashed before my eyes. The girl I met nearly four years ago. The American who spoke clear German. The girl who gave me a book so I may learn English. The book that saved my life. The book that I held in her coat one day as a bullet hit me. The book that stopped the bullet from penetrating my flesh. It retains its battle scar from saving her life, with pages torn and shattered, yet it still smells like... _her_.

I shook my head and realized where I was. I got to work on the wounded while more kept arriving into the trench. " _This is bullshit,"_ I thought to myself. Suddenly, another soldier dropped into the trench. But this soldier was different. There's an American flag on his shoulder. Instinct came over me and I held my rifle at him. He isn't looking at me; my perfect opportunity. I emptied my lung, and when the sights steadied, I pulled the trigger. The recoil slammed my shoulder like a cannonball. Blood spilled into the mud, coloring the ground to look like Satan's piss.

My heart skipped a beat. Not in the good way. Not the way it skipped when I met that girl on Christmas. I just took a life; he could've known the girl. I slowly peeked over the trench. It appeared he was a lone wolf, with his friends still on the other side of No Man's Land. Whistles blew, shells cracked in the skies, and my comrades shouted, " _Für den Kaiser!"_ A wave of bravery, pride, and patriotism washed over me.

It was our turn to strike them. Our turn to face their guns head on. I gripped my rain-covered rifle and left the trench, allowing the other doctors to tend to the wounded. I ran; that was my only choice. If I ran back, that's desertion and I can legally be shot and killed by my own countrymen. I looked up at the grey sky and saw something flying through the clouds. I realized what it is, and I quickly ducked into a nearby trench for cover. The object exploded just before impact, sending bits of shrapnel across the area. Damned artillery.

I snuck through the entrenchment; only because the artillery and gunfire could mask my boots slamming against the mud. Despite this, I heard something. Something like a dog. An injured dog. A dog- no, a human whimpering. **Someone is dying.** My medic instincts kicked in and I raced toward this sound. I aimed down each corner, checking for any enemies as I went. I came to a dead end, met with a body. A lifeless, American body. I slowly approaced it. The whimpering has stopped. I kept my rifle trained on it. It moved. I couldn't tell if it was rigor mortis or not. Maybe a rat was eating it. I wish it wasn't an uncommon sight.

I felt my hands beginning to shake in fear. I slung my rifle over my shoulder. "Hello?" I whispered. I was met without a reply. I kept my right hand by my knife. I reached out to it. Something's off. When I make contact, when I put my hand on its shoulder, it moved again. Only this time, it was on its own. I hitched my breathing when I was staring down the barrel of a pistol. I looked at his face. Wait...

I recognized that face. The nose, the lips, those cheeks. Those eyes, bloodshot in an attempt to masquerade the royal blue that pierces your very soul. This was no man. This is a girl. An American girl that learned to speak fluent German. A girl who gave me a book so I may learn English. A girl who gave me a book which would one day stop a bullet from taking my life. Out of everything that I could've said at that moment, I chose a single word.

"Max." I said just above a whisper. Saying her name once again has filled me with an emotion this war has deprived so many young men from: happiness. She froze and dropped her gun. She stared at me for what felt like forever before she opened her mouth.

"Chloe?" I shuddered from her voice. It was raspy from shouting and broken from crying. It was deep, as if imitating a man. Yet it was calm, like it was on that Christmas morning an eternity ago. Her face was covered in mud blood, most likely not her own. Her eyes have that look that some soldiers have. Shellshock. Only God knows what she's seen. I managed a smile. She did her best to do the same. "The hell've you been?"

I felt tears forming in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I looked down and noticed a wound in her abdomen. "Max, your wound." She looked down at her wound.

"Yeah, that..." she muttered. I grab her.

"We must leave!" I helped her up. She stopped me.

"Where to? Take me to your side, and your buddies will kill me. Take me to my side, and they'll kill you."

"We cannot stay here! I will not leave you!" I slung her arm over my shoulder. I looked around me.

"Just..."

" _Nein!_ You will not die on me." I stood there contemplating my next move. I looked over the trench. My comrades were falling back. I cursed under my lips and began to run towards the American line.

"Chloe, no... they'll shoot you." She muttered.

"You must trust me, Max." I kept running. I ran as fast as I could while keeping Max on her feet. As their voices drew nearer, I prayed to God in my head that this would work. "Hold your fire! I have wounded!" I shouted once the Americans came into view. They aimed their guns at me for a second, but lowered them once they saw Max over my shoulder.

"Did that Jerry just speak English?" I heard one of them say. I set Max down and grabbed for my medical supplies. _"Sheiße, they're at our trench."_ I reached in my coat to get a small needle of morphine. Thank God I always carried these. I took off the protective plastic and jabbed the morphine into Max's thigh.

"That will ease the pain." I told her. "I need a medic!" I looked up and saw a medic look at me reluctantly before approaching us. He knelt down.

"I'll take care of her." He said. I turned around and looked at the other soldiers. I stood. I knew what was going to happen.

"Don't shoot her." I heard Max grunt out from behind me. One aimed his gun at me. I put both of my hands in the air as he escorted me away. Another soldier tied up my hands. I spent that night in a small room being interrogated. I didn't give them anything.

"So tell me. Did you want to get caught?"

"No."

"So you're not defecting?"

"I didn't defect. I saved my friend."

"You know her?"

* * *

I was being brought out into the trenches with other German captives. I knew we were going home. The war was over. We lost. It brought dread when I was informed of it. I fear the treaties that would result. I know Germany would be torn apart, either externally or internally. A soldier was escorting me to a truck where I would be taken back to Germany when someone grabbed him.

"She's with me." I turned around. It was Max. The soldier walked away. I smiled and hugged her. "Woah, easy there." I backed off a little. She lifted her shirt slightly, revealing her healing wound. "Thanks for what you did. I'd be dead if not for you"

"I can say the same."

"Why? Because I told them not to shoot you?"

"No. Remember the book you gave me? On Christmas?" I asked. I grinned when her face lit up. "That book stopped a bullet from killing me."

"Did it now?" We both laughed a little. "I guess we're even." I waited a second before saying something.

"So, what now?" I ran my hand through my hair, now a light shade of brown. I never got a chance to re-dye my hair to blue.

"I guess you go home, and I go home too. I'm sure your family wants to see you." She smiled, but I frowned a little.

"I'll see what I can manage about visiting you." I stopped frowning. She handed me a piece of paper.

"Visit soon." She winked. I looked at the paper. It has an address. I looked up excitedly at her.

"One day." I looked behind me at the truck being loaded up. I gave her one final smile before entering the truck. She turned as well and slowly walked away.

* * *

 **December 24, 1920**

 **Chloe's POV**

It's been two years since I last saw her.

When I returned home, I was welcomed with open arms by my beloved family. Then a revolution began. Some wanted democracy, others wanted this socialism thing that the Russians had. The empire was killed with its emperor abdicated. With a flawed republic in place, I didn't know what to do. My family and I agreed that this country was either dying or going down a dark path. My mother insisted that I scramble up money and move to the United States. I wanted to take her and my father with me, but I reluctantly gave in.

For two years, I had been scraping the barrel when it came to money. I spent little on food for myself. Eventually, I had just enough to get a one-way ticket to America. I kissed my parents goodbye before I left with a single bag of clothes. I held the piece of paper tightly, for it had a key address. I memorized it over and over in case I lost it. When I saw the Statue of Liberty towering over the water, my heart fluttered knowing that I was one step closer to Max.

With a few favors and sneaking into some train cars, I made my way to a quaint Oregon town called Arcadia Bay. Strangers gave me looks. People called me names. They knew I was foreign. I didn't let it stop me. Not when I found the address. A moderately sized home with a few Christmas decorations. I inhaled deeply and looked at the front door. I slowly walked up. I lifted my hand to knock on the door...

* * *

 **Max's POV**

Another lonely Christmas. Living alone is certainly an adjustment. I sat down in a chair next to the fireplace. I took a sip of hot cocoa as I stared into the fire.

Fire. The Somme. All the screams. The smell of burnt flesh. Kind boys from England being scorched alive before my very eyes. God's mercy means nothing when men have none.

I was awoken from my trance when a knock sounded from the door. I raised an eyebrow and set my mug down. Who could be at my door at this hour? In fact, who would be at my door at all? I hesitantly got up and walked to the door. I opened it expecting someone I would... expect.

Instead, I was met with a tall German girl clutching a single bag. A German girl who I told two years ago to visit me. A girl who said she would visit one day. She dropped her bag when I threw my arms around her. I felt her wrap hers around me. I felt tears forming in my eyes.

"You actually came." I whispered, my voice breaking as I begun to cry.

"I told you I would." She backed up to look at me. "May I come in?" She asked me as she picked up her bag. I chuckled and stepped inside with her. I closed the door.

"How did you get here?"

"I have my ways." She smirked. I looked at her bag.

"Are you gonna live with me now?"

"Where else can I go?" She asked me. She took off her coat and hung it on the coat hanger. I wiped my eyes from the tears. "Besides, my country's going through hell."

"What's going on?"

"A revolution followed by collapse of the empire and birth of a crippled republic." She laid down on my sofa. I rolled my eyes and curled up beside her. She wrapped an arm around me.

"Merry Christmas, Chloe." I whispered as I nuzzled my head in her neck.

"Merry Christmas, Max." She replied. I gently kissed her cheek. She began to blush, and I laughed. She turned to me and kissed me. I was a bit surprised, but I gave in. Eventually, we broke the kiss. "I have been wanting to do that for so long."

"Me too." I kissed her. I felt like crying again. "This is much better than our last Christmas."

"Indeed." She said and poked my nose, making me giggle. I nuzzled myself in her neck. "I love you, Max."

"I love you too, Chloe." I smiled and looked into the fire. With the Great War past us, I feel as if nothing can separate us. As we both close our eyes to drift to sleep on this Christmas night, I smile at the thought of our future together.

* * *

 **Author's Note: this was the first thing I published in a very long time. I meant to publish this on Christmas, but... Anyway, I apologize if it's not the best writing. I've been on hiatus for at least ten months, so I'm definitely quite rusty. I have plenty of ideas for future stories that hopefully I'll get around to putting into words. I just wanted to make this sequel to a story I wrote a year ago. Auf Wiedersehen, Merry Christmas, and goodnight!**


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